of
Mercury but of Pluto. For the benefit of those who have never seen a
stuffed Plutonian in our museums--and they are very rare--let me refer
you to the pious books still to be found in ancient library
collections. The ancients personified their fears and hates in a being
they called the Devil. The resemblance between the Devil of their
imagination and a Plutonian is really astounding. Horns, hoofs,
tail--almost to the smallest detail, the resemblance is there.

Philosophers have written books on the "coincidence" in appearance of
the ancient Devil and the modern decadent Plutonians. The Plutonians
were once numerous and far advanced in science, and no doubt they
called on the Earth many times, in prehistoric days, and the so-called
Devil was a true picture of those vicious invaders, who are somewhat
less human than usually portrayed. What was once classed as
superstition was therefore a true racial memory. Long before our
ancestors came out of their caves to build houses, the Plutonians had
mastered interplanetary travel--only to forget the secret until human
ingenuity should reveal it once more.

The modern Plutonian in that dank cave was over ten feet tall, and it
is easy to see why he dominated the assemblage. His black visage was
set in an evil smile; his ebony body glistened in the firelight. He
held a three-pronged spear in one hand, and sat on a pile of rocks, a
sort of rough throne, so that he towered magnificently above all
others.

He spoke the Mercurian language, although the liquid intonations came
harshly from his sneering lips.

"Are ye assembled, frogfolk, that ye may hear the decision of your
Thinking Ones?" he asked.

* * * * *

A respectful peeping chorus signified assent. But in that there was a
hint of unrest; even of fear.

"Speak, ye Thinking One, your commands!"

"Hear me first!" An old Mercurian, unusually tall, faded and dry
looking, his thick hide wrinkled like crushed leather, rose slowly to
his feet and stepped before the oblong stone. His back was to the
Plutonian, his face to the crescent of chiefs.

"The Old Wise One!" A twittering murmur went around the assemblage.
"Hear the Old Wise One!"

"My people, I like this not!" began the ancient. "The Lords of the
Green Star[1] have dealt with us fairly. Each phase[2] they have
brought us the things we wanted"--he touched his spear and a few gaudy
ornaments on his otherwise naked body--"in exchange f